


Punishment

by joyeusenoelle



Category: In Nomine
Genre: F/M, Other, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyeusenoelle/pseuds/joyeusenoelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Divine Contract is not quite canonical here, but it served the plot better this way.</p></blockquote>





	Punishment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [undauntra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/undauntra/gifts).



Dionisie had just found the last tumbler on the safe and was reaching for the lever when he felt a tap on his shoulder. The blood in his veins turned to ice; he'd been _sure_ the guard's patrol would be longer, given how nice it was outside and that he knew the guard liked to dally on sunny days. He depressed the lever and pulled the door out slightly - if he was going to be caught, he might as well give himself a chance to get away with some of the goods. Then he put on his best smile and stood, turning to face --

"Iva?" he asked, blinking. 

The Seraph nodded. "Hello, Dio."

Iva's vessel was as Dionisie remembered it: stereotypically tall and thin, with high cheekbones, chocolate-brown eyes, and hair the same color that was just starting to go grey around the edges. She smiled. "It's good to see you. I can see I'm interrupting, but I hope you'll take a few moments for me."

Dionisie swallowed and willed his blood to heat back up. "Of course," he said. He pushed the safe's door open fully with the side of his leg; to either his credit or hers, Iva didn't give the faintest clue that she'd noticed. "What brings you here?"

"A little metaphorical bird told me that you would be here today, and I thought that you might enjoy seeing me." She reached out and drew those pianist's fingers along his cheek, along the scar this vessel wore as a sign of past struggles he'd never personally experienced. "I know that I enjoy seeing you, even if this isn't how I remember you."

"Are you going to try to bring me in?"

The Seraph shrugged. "I may. But not involuntarily. You have my word on that. If I try to redeem you it will be by your choice."

"Why would I choose to redeem?" Dionisie asked, raising an eyebrow. "You know why I left."

"Nothing that can't be repaired, Dio. What would you want in exchange for coming with me to a Tether? I'll even stipulate that it be a Tether to Flowers, so that you know the process will be as gentle as possible."

Dionisie leaned back against the safe. Mentally, he was still counting seconds - another hundred or so until he guessed the guard would return. After a few seconds of silence, he said, "You."

Iva cleared her throat. "Would you mind being a little more explicit?"

"One hour, with you, in our celestial forms, during which I am allowed to punish you for allowing me to Fall in any way I see fit."

"Any way? Mm. You may not take me to another plane, and you may not do permanent damage to me."

"And otherwise?"

"I accept. If you agree to come with me to a Tether of my choosing, which will be a Tether to Flowers, I will agree to those terms."

Seventy seconds. "Very well. Write it out while I get what I need, and I'll sign it. Do you still have-?" 

"Yes." Iva produced a pen and a sheet of paper from her shoulder bag, and spent the next half-minute writing out a formal, if abbreviated, contract. Dionisie took that time to rifle through the safe, putting a few bundles of cash and a particular photograph _into_ his bag. He closed the safe just as Iva finished writing. "Come and double-check this," she said, and Dionisie walked over.

The contract was substantially as they'd agreed, and with a flourish, he signed his name at the line marked "Party 1". Iva signed hers at "Party 2", and Dionisie felt the weight of the contract settle around his soul, binding him to his word. "Shall we?" he asked, glancing at the clock. _Ten seconds._

"Let's," Iva agreed, and the two of them left the room, Dionisie flicking the light off on his way out. As they reached the stairwell at the end of the hall, Dionisie heard the soft thump of the guard's shoes on the carpet far behind them, and smiled.

They took Dionisie's car, a convertible he'd stolen earlier that week from an obnoxious day trader who was _far_ too into Having Things and Buying More, and were at his dingy-but-untraceable motel in a matter of minutes. Dionisie led Iva to the door, and made a split-second decision to actually use the key instead of picking the lock. He shut the door behind Iva and set his bag and hers on the bedside chair. "Do you need a minute?" he asked.

She shook her head. A moment's concentration, and her vessel fell away like dust, leaving her pure, natural form behind: a serpent, long and muscular, with a pair of wings, a dragon's head, and six fiery eyes. She flexed her wings, and he felt his legs turn to jelly; this was a sight he'd sorely missed, even if, in his previous life, he'd never have been able to admit it.

He let his own vessel fall away, and stood before her, his once-smooth skin now covered in brands, scars, and tattoos, his ears gauged and his tongue studded.

She leaned in and drew a gentle, forked tongue over his cheek, and he closed his eyes at the touch. "You were so beautiful," she said, quietly.

"And now?" he asked.

"I can still see it. You've done an excellent job of hiding it, but I can still see it."

He reached out a hand and rested it on her forehead, and it was her turn to close her eyes. "An hour. No permanent damage, and we stay here, and otherwise, nothing is sacred."

She opened her mouth and he beat her to it. "You know what I mean."

"I do." She nodded.

He ran the fingers of one hand down her scales; they were smooth under his fingertips, and the smallest scales at the tip of her tail were hard to tell apart at all. He stroked her tail gently, and felt the muscles there tense. So that hadn't changed since the last time he'd seen her.

With his free hand he reached up to her wing, drawing the backs of his fingers across her feathers, and she cooed softly, curling her body around so she could flick her tongue against his ear. Iva's wings were so unlike those of the Balseraphs he knew; he'd forgotten that Seraphim had feathers on their wings, not bat-leather, and there was not a single feather out of place. She took pride in her wings - not the sort that led to a fall, but the sort that bespoke a nobility and sense of identity.

Now he knew where to start, and with a quick motion, he'd loosed a feather from the wing, letting it flutter to the ground. She gasped and drew the wing back, but only for a moment. "Too much?" he asked, in Helltongue.

"No," she said. She understood the infernal language, but chose not to speak it. "It will grow back. It is not permanent damage. Proceed." He knew that the formal tone belied her pain at the loss of the feather, both physical and emotional, and with a faint smile he pulled another, farther down the wing. This time she didn't pull away, but he could still hear the hiss as the shaft pulled free of her skin. He held the feather and used it to tease the tip of her tail, and she coiled around him, leaving both wings and tail-tip accessible.

"Punish me, Punisher," she said into his other ear, and he turned and caught her tongue as it snuck out to tease him, holding it between his lips and then biting to keep it in place. She let out a noise that was half-gasp, half-moan, and pressed her scaly lips against his; he let go of her tongue, but sucked at it, stroking it with his own. Mid-kiss, he took another feather, from the opposite wing, and he could feel the tremor through her entire body, wrapped as it was around his.

He ran his hand up her underbelly, such as he could, and discovered when he reached her cloaca - and how curious it was, he had always thought, that a Seraph should share such a base characteristic with Earthly serpents - that she had managed to place it over his own stomach. He stroked the scales there, and she shivered and responded, the vent opening to his touch. He slid two fingers inside her as he pulled another feather, and she tensed again, a feeling he was beginning to enjoy.

"This is not much of a punishment, Dio," she whispered.

He shook his head. "It is precisely as much punishment as I want to give, right now."

"Very well," she said, and returned her tongue to his lips.

Dionisie thought for a minute, still fingering her cloaca and occasionally tugging a feather loose. He couldn't pull scales; that would leave scars. And to make the kind of impression he was used to making with fingernails or lashes would require doing permanent damage as well, given her scaly exterior.

But there was a way, now that he thought about it, that he could hurt her, without leaving a permanent scar.

Wordlessly, he slipped his fingers out of her and guided her belly back against his, and with a mutual "--ah--" from both of them, he pulled her down, his erect cock sliding up her scales and into her cloacal vent. She groaned against his lips and pulled back, pressing her cheek against his. "It has been too long, Dio," she said.

"Have you-?"

"I have not," she said, and he nodded, thrusting his cock deeper inside her. She unwrapped and rewrapped her tail around his leg, writhing against him as he penetrated her. Another feather came out, then two, one for each thrust. Her wings were beginning to look threadbare, but he didn't let himself care; her pride could, _should_ hurt for a while. And she would have some explaining to do when she returned to Heaven, to boot - a thought that brought a smile to his face.

He bit her tongue again, still plucking feathers as he rocked against her, and this time he managed to make it sting; she hissed and tried to pull back before remembering herself. Once he'd flicked the bifurcated tip of her tongue with his own, he let her go, and turned, pressing her down against the bed and thanking God for selective tangibility. She spread her wings wide against the blanket and raised her chin, and he kissed down her chest and then back up.

As he fucked her, he felt the tip of her tail creep up the inside of his thigh, probing behind his balls. He shook his head and squeezed his thighs together. "Not this time," he said, and she sighed. "But I do have a special treat for you."

"Oh?" she asked, and he nodded. The touch of her tail had brought him close, and as she tensed her cloaca around him, he played his trump card.

"I'm not going to the Tether with you," he said, in Helltongue, and the force of the holy contract blasted his soul, burning a new brand into his skin: a sigil that meant "Oathbreaker" in the Heavenly alphabet. She shrieked, but they were too tangled for her to disengage, and between the pain from the contract's violation and the knowledge of her distress, he came, hard and hot, his cock still buried deep inside her.

Slowly, he stopped rocking, and she managed to shift him off; he fell onto the bed as she reassumed her vessel, cheeks flushed, visibly shaking. "How _dare_ you-" she began, but he cut her off.

"Read me!" he shouted, and assumed his own vessel again, hairy and smelly and _physical_ , breathing hard and smiling at Iva. "Read me." She glared at him, which he took to mean that she was. "I lied," he said. "I lied to break the contract. I'll go."

"What is this game of yours?" she asked, still frowning.

"You said that I could punish you, without leaving permanent damage. That moment of betrayal - when you knew that I had betrayed you - that was punishment enough."

"And you truly will come with me to the Tether?"

"Yes. I truly will. Let me put something in the mail and then we can go."

She whacked him with her shoulder bag. "Don't you ever do that again, Dionisie."

The Habbalite nodded. "Like I said - that was punishment enough." He smiled, a little sadly. "I didn't know how much I missed you."

"Come on," she said, nodding to the door. "Let's go home."

"Home," Dionisie said, tasting the word. "... okay."

**Author's Note:**

> Divine Contract is not quite canonical here, but it served the plot better this way.


End file.
